


Adrien Bakes

by Nandelin



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 15:51:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13193394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nandelin/pseuds/Nandelin
Summary: Adrien can't sleep.  So, he slips out of the house to wander around Paris as night.  Only Bakers would be up this early.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien can't sleep and decides to slip out of his house and wander around Paris in the early hours of the morning. The only people awake are the bakers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this as a one shot, but decided to break it up into short chapters to help the flow of the story. Please let me know what you think of it.
> 
> Also, I had a hard time thinking of a good title. Any suggestions? 
> 
> Author notes will be at the end of the last chapter.

Disclaimer  
Miraculous: The tails of Ladybug and Cat Noir are property of Zag Toons and Thomas Astuc. I have no legal right to any of these amazing characters. This writing is a way of dealing with the long wait for season two. I would draw pictures to ease the wait, but have not developed sufficient skill at drawing. If Mr. Zag or Mr. Astuck want me to remove this content, I will do so at any time. Any similarities between my writing and any future episodes are purely coincidental and happy accidents. If they happen read any of my stories and like it enough to want to incorporate any of it, they are, of course, free to do so. I expect no compensation or acknowledgement, although if they wanted to base an akumatized victim after me.... I wouldn’t say no. 

 

Adrien Bakes

 

His breath forming a mist around his face, Adrien dug his hands into his pockets, and shrugged his shoulders against the chill. Street lights glowed dimly as he made his way down the deserted streets from shadow to shadow, shoes making no sound on the cobble stone. Quiet as a cat, he thought to himself with a slight smile He had only slept four hours that night. He never seemed to need more, bed by 11 and up by 3. He would usually study, or shoot some basketball, or read, or sometimes just stare at the ceiling, until Natalie came to tell him it was time to get ready for school. Now, he had options. Now, that he could transform into Chat Noir, Paris was open to him, he could and often did go vaulting over rooftops. The fun, however, was wearing a bit thin. Without Ladybug around it... it got lonely. "I wonder what she is doing right now?" he thought. 

His hands in his pockets, he looked down at his feet, as he stepped carefully from cobble stone to cobble stone. Probably sleeping like a normal person. Even Plagg was fast asleep in his inner shirt pocket. He had not appreciated the early morning wake up calls, and had dived back into his hiding place, as soon as he could. It seemed like everyone in Paris was asleep, except for him. 

“Adrien? is that you?” 

Startled, Adrien looked up. Framed in the warm light of a doorway, stood Mr. Dupain. His hair and mustache dusted with flour, and the yeasty smell of bread and sweet scent of madeleine’s drifting around him in warm eddies, mixing with the chilly morning breeze. Adrien realized he had been following that smell for several blocks without being aware of it. 

“Mr. Dupain? what are you doing here. I didn’t think anyone else would be awake this early.”

“I think that’s the question I should be asking you. Does your father know you’re out at this time of day? It’s so early, it’s still the middle of the night.”

“Please, don’t tell him. I couldn’t sleep and I needed to take a walk to clear my head.”

“Well, ok. I won’t mention it, but you should come inside. It’s cold out and you look like you could use a hot drink,” Mr. Dupain said, casting a critical eye over the shivery boy. “I’m not one to brag, but I make the best hot chocolate in all of Paris.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Adrien said gratefully, “Are you sure I won’t be in the way?”

“What? No, of course not,” Mr. Dupain said, “I’d appreciate the company. I don’t get many visitors this early in the day,” putting an arm around Adrien, he ushered him into the warm golden bakery. “You sit right there while I make you the best hot chocolate in all of Paris.” Mr. Dupain busied himself with a pan of milk and chunks of dark rich chocolate. Adrien perched on a stool, watching everything that Mr. Dupain was doing. It was fascinating how effortlessly he moved around his bakery. “You want to know the secret of the best hot chocolate in Paris, my boy?” He asked, as he expertly poured a small white cup to the brim with thick, dark, pudding like liquid. 

“What?” Adrien asked.

Plucking a steaming hot croissant off the racks with a pair of tongs, Mr. Dupain placed it on a white china plate next to the small, steaming mug of chocolate. Handing it to Adrian, he said “dipping the best croissant, in all of Paris, into it.”

Adrien dipped the steaming croissant into the chocolate and eagerly began to eat. “This is amazing,” he said his mouth full, “It’s the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had.” Chewing, Adrien sighed with delight, feeling a glow inside him, that begin to reflect the warm bakery glow all around him. “It’s so amazing,” he repeated, “I wish I could make something like this.”

“Croissants are a bit tricky, but I don’t see why you couldn’t learn,” Mr. Dupain said, “tell me, what baking experience have you had, my boy.” 

Adrien smiled. “I’ve never even boiled an egg. We have a personal chef who does all the baking.”

“Well, boiling an egg is technically cooking, not baking, but I get you’re point,” Mr. Dupain said, “If you like, I can give you a few pointers. A man should always be able to make himself something to eat. He reached up into the racks of rising bread dough and brought one down. Picking up a large wooden bread board and sprinkling it liberally with flower, he upended the slightly sticky dough onto it. “Wash your hands at that sink over there and put this apron on.”

Soon Adrien was up to his elbows in warm yeasty dough. Punching it down, watching it deflate before he began kneading it over and over, “You’re good at that, my boy. It takes muscles and endurance to knead bread the way your doing, not every one can do it properly. You can use machines to do the kneading of course, but it’s never turns out quite as good. With your hands in the dough you can feel the bread, have a connection with it.”

A connection. Can I really feel a connection? Adrien though. He applied himself to the task, loosing himself in the work of kneading bread dough and shaping loaves. He didn’t notice when sunlight came streaming into the bakery windows, until a beam moved up to his face, making him blink. Glancing at the clock, Adrien realized it was almost six. Natalie would be coming soon to tell him it was time to get ready for school. “I’ve got to go. I don’t want my Dad to worry about me,” he said. 

“Well, It was luck for me, you did wake up early today. I’ve had time to make some extra tarts this morning.” He handed Adrien one of the bakeries boxes embossed with the gold TS, “Take this for a snack, and feel free to drop in anytime you can’t sleep.”

Peaking in the box, Adrien was met with the warm sweet fragrance of apple galette.* “Thanks Mr. Dupain. I’ve had a really good time.” He said as he hung up his apron. “But do you mean it? Can I come back?”

“Of course my boy, of course. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. You have a natural talent, I can tell that already. Besides, I’ve heard a lot about you from Marinette. She thinks your something special, and I must say I agree with her.” 

Adrien rubbed the back of his head, blushed and smiled. “Thanks, Mr. DuPain, Marinette’s pretty great too; and yes, I’d love to come back. Would tomorrow be too soon?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Smell that?” Mr. Dupain said. 

Adrien raised his nose and inhaled. The aroma of baguettes, croissants and brioche mingled with the rich aroma of madeleines, and chocolate chip cookies; and there, rising above them all was lemon. The citrusy fragrance rising high and clear, like a flute solo in an orchestra. “The lemon cake,” Adrien said excitedly. 

“You’re nose is one of the most important tools when you’re baking,” Mr. Dupain said. He opened the oven and prodded the cake baking inside of it with a wooden skewer. “Perfect,” he announced, holding up the skewer so Adrien could see it, a few, fine crumbs clung to it. 

With the oven open, the smell of lemon cake took center stage. “The timer still has 6 minutes left on it” Mr. Dupain said, as he pulled several cake pans out of the oven and placed them on a rack to cool, “but if we’d waited, the cakes would have been overdone.” 

“Lemon cake was my mom’s favorite,” Adrien said a wistfully. 

“Was it? Well, then you should take one home and share it with your father.” Mr. Dupain said kindly.

“Thank you Mr. Dupain, but I don’t see him very much, and we never eat together,” Adrien paused, “I wouldn’t want to waste it.” 

Mr. Dupain watched Adrien for a moment and cleared his throat, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how does your father feel about you coming here?” Mr. Dupain said, his warm brown eyes watching Adrien kindly. “Is he ok with you spending so much time here?” 

“Oh, well,” Adrien said ducking his head slightly, “I guess I haven’t told him. I don’t think He’d let me come if I did.”

“No, why not?” Mr Dupain asked.

“You don’t know my father. He has strict ideas of what I should and shouldn’t do: if it’s not his idea, I shouldn't do it. He’s kind of stubborn like that.”

“I see, my boy, I see. Well, we’ll talk about this another time then,” Mr. Dupain patted Adrien on the shoulder. 

“Yes sir.” Adrien said, relieved that Mr. Dupain had dropped the subject of his father, “Should I make the glaze for the cakes now?” 

“Let’s wait on that. They need time to completely cool before we glaze them. For now, would you please make some macaroons. I have a last minute order, and I still need to finish the baguettes, before we open.

“Right away,” Adrien said smiling, macaroons were becoming a bit of a specialty for him and he loved making them.


	3. Chapter 3

“Mr. Agreste will see you now,” Natalie said as she eyed the large man standing in the lavishly decorated foyer, he smells like butter and cinnamon, and chocolate chip cookies. How on earth did a baker get an audience with Mr. Agreste? she wondered, and on such short notice too. Mentally shrugging she turned on her heal and marched into the office, Mr. Dupain following. 

“Thank you Natalie, you may go,” Gabriel Agreste said, standing tall and straight his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out of the window at Paris. Natalie left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Turning, Gabriel gave a small smile, “Thomas, it’s good to see you, please sit,” he said indicating a pair of matching white upholstered armchairs, “Its been a while,” he said. Gabriel took the other chair. “What can I do for you today?”

“Well, I suppose I came for a two reasons,” Thomas began, “first I’ve been meaning to come by for some time to express my condolences for your loss. This must be a very hard time for you and your son with your wife... missing.” 

“Yes, it has been difficult, but Adrien and I are managing,” Gabriel said, slumping back into his seat very slightly. 

“The other reason for my visit is actually about your son, Adrien.”

“Adrien? What about Adrian?” Gabriel sat up straighter in his seat. 

“Well, I don’t know if you are aware, but he has been coming to my bakery from around four to six every morning for the past month and learning to bake. He recently mentioned that you didn’t know about it, and as a parent, I feel you need to know where your son is. I don’t like the idea of you finding him missing and worrying. Especially after....” Thomas let his words trail off. 

“You were quite right to come to me. I will inform Adrien, that this will no longer continue. I am sorry for the bother it has caused you.”

“No, that’s not why I came. I don’t want Adrien to stop visiting the bakery. He has a real gift, a real love for it. He told me, that he has never baked before. He made these this morning. Please try one. I couldn’t have done better. Mr. Dupain held out one of his bakery’s pastry boxes. 

Taking the box Gabriel looked inside at the row of perfectly formed Macaroons, then he looked back at Thomas, “You said Adrien made these?” He picked one up and examined it before he took a bite and chewed quietly, “They are quite good.” He was silent as he gazed into the distance. The silence stretched before he finally said. “I’d alway’s hoped Adrien would follow me into the design business.”

“I think we’d all like our children to follow in our footsteps: but sometimes they need to try out different things before they can decide what path they need to take,” Thomas told Gabriel kindly. He added with a slightly teasing tone, “I remember, you didn’t alway do what you’re father expected either. You were quite the rebel. Does it surprise you your son’s inherited a little bit of that?”

“I suppose not,” Gabriel said.

Pressing his advantage Thomas added, “If he continues to come to the bakery, you’ll know where he is. Who knows where he could end up next time. This way, you’ll have another person keeping an eye on him.”

Gabriel gave Thomas a withering look, the kind that sent assistants scrambling and made interviewers stumble over their words. Thomas looked back at him with wide eyes, and Gabriel noticed his mustache twitch. Gabriel’s composure cracked and he started laughing. “Fine, fine” he said, laughter still in his voice, “I’ll let Adrien continue visiting your bakery. I suppose there are worse things for him to want to do. Besides,” Gabriel added, “you’ll probably be a good influence on the boy.”

 

 

Glancing at the box that held the macaroons, Gabriel ran a finger over the gold embossed ‘TS.’ “I’m glad to see you’ve updated your design. Who did the work? It’s quite good.”

“My daughter did. She is turning into an amazing artist,” Mr. Dupain said proudly. She even designed the cover art on the new Jagged Stone album.”

“Did she now?” Mr. Agreste said, as he fingered the embossed pattern, “Your daughter, what is her name?”

“Marinette.”

“Is that the same Marinette who goes to school with Adrien?”

“Sure is.”

“I remember her,” he said. Pausing he murmured to himself, “the laboring hands of a hat maker.” After a few moments of thought, he turned, and pressed the button on an intercom, “Natalie, we require some tea. Have the chef send some up,” Turning back to his friend he began, “Thomas, I have a proposition for you, if you are amenable. Why don’t we talk about it over some tea and these tasty macaroons.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Adrien, please come in here, I wish to talk to you,” Mr. Agreste called to his some as Adrien was leaving to go to school.

“Yes, father?” He peaked around the door way of his fathers atelier. Gabriel had his back to his son, gazing at the painting of his wife. 

Turning, Gabriel addressed his son, “I was visited by Thomas Dupain this morning and he informed me that you are sneaking away from the house early in the morning and working at the Dupain bakery.”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped, “Yes father.”

“I’m sure you understand, this has to stop.”

“Father!” Adrien began, looking up.

“My decision is final. You will no longer be going there” Mr. Agreste said. Adrien’s head dropped in defeat. “on school days,” his father added.

Adrien’s looked back up at his father in surprise. 

“If you want to continue going to the bakery, you will do so only on weekends, and only as long as it doesn’t interfere with your other commitments.”

Adrien ran to his father, hugging him, “Thank you.”

Mr Agreste stroked his son’s hair, then stepped back. “You can thank Mr. Dupain, he convinced me that you deserved a chance to hone your skills in the culinary arts.” Picking a sealed white envelope off his desk, he handed it to Adrien, “ When you go there this Saturday, I require you to give this letter to Miss Marinette DuPain-Cheng.”

“Of course, father,” Adrien said. “What is it?”

“It only seems right that if if Mr. DuPain is going to gain such a promising assistant, that I should get one too, if Mrs. DuPain-Cheng is interested that is.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Perfect timing my boy, I have here,” he brandished a small wicker basket filled with tiny red berries, “the first basket of fraises des bois* this season. We will have them for breakfast as a family to celebrate your first official day as my weekend apprentice.” 

Running up to Mr. DuPain, Adrien threw his arms around him and squeezed, “How did you do it. How did you get my father to agree to let me keep coming here?”

Chuckling Mr. DuPain placed the basket of delicate fruit on the counter and enveloped Adrien in a warm hug that smelled like bread and burnt sugar and chocolate chip cookies, “Even your father won’t stand in the way of greatness, and your work here is on it’s way to greatness, my boy.” After a long moment, he stood up, pretending not to notice the tears in Adrien’s eyes. “Well, we have a lot to get done, so lets get started.” 


	6. Chapter 6

“Marinette, breakfast is ready, time to get up.” Mrs DuPain-Cheng called up the stairs.

“Coming Mama,” Yawning, Marinette descended the stairs that led from her bedroom into the kitchen, “Good Morning, Mama. Good Morning, Papa” she kissed each in turn. “Good Morning, Adrien,” she said rubbing her eyes. Taking a seat at the table she began reaching for a fresh Croissant, but paused mid motion. Something was different. Oh, I must still be sleeping. She thought, I’ve had these dreams before, were I’m getting ready in the morning, but I’m really not because I’m still dreaming. That must be it. There is no way Adrien would be sitting at my breakfast table. She glanced down to make sure she wasn’t naked. Pink pajama bottoms and white shirt in place. Good. It’s not one of THOSE dreams. “

 

“Morning Marinette,” Adrien said brightly, “I hope you like the croissants. I made them myself,” he added.

“I’m sure they are amazing, just like you,” she loved dreams. You could say anything in a dream. Picking up the pastry, she pealed off a flaky section and absently put it in her mouth. It was warm and buttery with just a hint of sweetness. It was perfect. And.... It... was... REAL! Blinking she looked around. Her mom and dad were here and Adrien.... Adrien was really here. Adrien was really HERE! He looked a bit startled and was blushing slightly. Wait.... what did I say Amazing. I called him Amazing.... Adrien is here... sitting at my breakfast table... and I called him Amazing. “What, what, ah, Adrien what are... I mean why... I mean...” she put her face in her hands, “I don’t know what I mean.”

“Marinette,” her dad put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder, “I’d like to introduce you to my new apprentice. Adrien’s going to be helping me out on the weekends.”

“Isn’t it exciting?” her mom said.

“It sure is,” Marinette said, “but how? I mean why. I mean, what’s going on?”

As they ate breakfast, Adrien recounted the tale of his nighttime excursions and how he had been helping her father in the bakery, with her father adding details along the way. 

“I was sure I mentioned that Adrien has been helping me,” her father said to her. Marinette gave him an exasperated look, “I didn’t? Are you sure. Well, it must have slipped my mind.”

“Oh... Marinette,” Adrien said, “before I forget; I have this letter for you,” Adrien handed Marinette a heavy velum envelope with her name written carefully and precisely on the front.

Distracted from strangling her father in the middle of the kitchen, She opened the envelope and began to read. “It’s an invitation to study design with you’re father,” she said, eye’s going wide.

Greetings Miss Dupain-Cheng, 

I am offering you the opportunity to study design with me at my studio Saturday and Sunday mornings. If this is amenable to you, please arrive at my house this Saturday, at 8 O'clock sharp. Adrien will escort you.

Regards

Gabriel Agreste 

 

“What does it say? Adrien asked. Marinette’s handed him the letter. “Wow, for my Dad, that’s positively wordy.”

“What time is it,” Glancing up at the clock, “Oh My Goodness, it’s 7:30. I’ve got to get ready!” She ran back up the stairs to her room.

At 10 minutes to eight, Adrien’s Body Guard showed up to drive them to the Agreste house. Her father and mother waved them off. “I have a feeling Marinette’s going to start getting up much earlier on the weekends from now on.” Mr. Dupain said putting his arm around his wife.

Snuggling into her husbands embrace she smiled as she waved at the departing black car, “They are made for each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Adrien is the kind of person who doesn’t need much sleep. My Grandmother was like that. (Four hours a night was all she ever needed. That lady got a lot done.) Adrien is so accomplished and so on top of his studies, plus his extra Chinese lessons and fencing not to mention his extra curricular kitty activities, and when it’s time for him to modal; he’s good to go. He might just be one of those very luck people, who only need cat naps. (see what I did there?)  
> I got to thinking, He is so accomplished, he has all of these different things going for him, but he never gets to choose what he wants to do. His father makes him participate in different activities, and admittedly Adrien seems to excel at what ever he puts his hand to, but wouldn’t it be interesting and not just a little bit convenient, if Adrien found his passion in baking. I feel like there would also be the appeal of him bonding with a warm father figure like Mr. Dupain. I really want to see more development in Adrien’s character.  
> I also loved the idea that Thomas Dupain and Gabriel Agreste would know each other, perhaps have even been good friends when they were in school. Children are often don’t realize their parents had lives before they were born. 
> 
> Apple Gallette is kind of apple tart, with a thin crust and very thinly sliced apples that melt in your mouth.
> 
> Fraises des bois* is a variety of French strawberry. It’s only available for a short time and bruises easily, so they can’t be shipped for commercial purposes and the only way to have them, is to either grow them yourself, or to know a source who does. I’ve never tasted one, but I’ve read they taste very much like wild strawberries. Someday I shall go to France during the spring, when they are available and eat as many as I can. 
> 
> Thank You for reading my story. If you have any questions or comment, I would love to hear them.
> 
> If you like this story, please check out my other stories, "Spoiler Man" and "Fashionista" I also want your recommendations for your favorite fan-fictions, that I should read! If you wrote something and you want me to read it, let me know!
> 
> Quick update: I just found a nice long fan fiction to check out while you wait for my next story! It's called, "Miraculous on Ice," by moonbabyscoot.  
> I've read a few chapters already, and it's very well written. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/12755436/chapters/29098116

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have never really figured out a good title for this story. Does anyone have any suggestions?


End file.
